


Shinju

by PenPistola



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenPistola/pseuds/PenPistola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko wondered—if he were to jump, to surrender himself to the sea, would the manta-dolphins rescue him? Would they protect him, take him someplace far away, where he could forget his life, his past, and this impossible quest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shinju

**Author's Note:**

> Shinju in Japanese means 'pearl'.

"Slow down!" Lu Ten called out to the figure of a little boy scampering over the rocky shore ahead of him. The boy turned and gave Lu Ten a withering look that was surprisingly potent for a seven-year-old. Lu Ten only grinned, and knelt down beside his smaller cousin once he'd caught up. "You're pretty fast, aren't you?"

"I can handle myself," little Zuko said defiantly. He glared and stuck his bottom lip out in a classic Zuko pout, but dropped the surly expression when Lu Ten gave him a light punch on the arm and he nearly lost his balance.

"I know you can," Lu Ten chuckled. "I just promised your mom I'd be careful with you, is all."

Zuko frowned guiltily at the mention of his mother. "Well, I guess," he conceded. "But if I can't run on the rocks, then what am I s'posed to do for fun? You brought me out here to play, right?" He looked up at Lu Ten questioningly, but not without a suspicious glint in his eye.

Lu Ten rubbed at the back of his neck anxiously. "I—sort of," he hemmed. Sometimes his younger cousin was too serious for his own good, and whatever the boy's brat of a little sister said, he certainly  _was_  clever.  Lu Ten climbed back to his feet, eager to change the subject before Zuko could continue his questioning. "Hey, look!" he pointed, and distracted, Zuko took the bait.

"Manta-dolphins?" the six-year-old cried, and heedless of Lu Ten's protests he took off over the rocks again, making a beeline for the shore.

Lu Ten caught up again, wiping a drop of sweat from his brow. A few dozen yards out, a whole pod of winged creatures jumped and flipped, sparkling under the sun like sleek, silvery torpedoes. "Manta-dolphins," he confirmed, crouching with his hands braced on his knees to catch his breath. Manta-dolphins were beautiful creatures, and rare. They'd always been one of Lu Ten's favorite things about his family's summer trips to Ember Island. "Did you know that they sometimes rescue sailors that get thrown overboard?" he said, repeating something his father had once told him. 

Zuko's eyes grew wide with wonder. "They do?" His gaze never left the leaping animals, yet Lu Ten knew the boy was hanging on his every word.

"Uh huh. When they see a man in the water, they come up to him. They'll surround him, and protect him if there's anything dangerous lurking around. Then, if there's land nearby, they'll let the man grab on and give him a ride."

"Why do they do that?"

"Nobody knows," Lu Ten admitted, and shrugged. "Some people say that a Water Tribe Avatar hundreds of years ago had one as a companion animal, and the manta-dolphins still remember."

"Wow," Zuko breathed, thankfully too young to understand that what Lu Ten had just told him might be considered treasonous. He watched the manta-dolphins with a new kind of respect, only peripherally aware of Lu Ten sitting down beside him. Quite a few moments of silence passed before Zuko tore his eyes away, turned his gaze over to Lu Ten and sat down on the rocky pebbles as well.

"You didn't bring me out here to play, did you?" he asked, surprising Lu Ten once again with his shrewdness.

"No," Lu Ten admitted, and swallowed. His fingers curled into the pebbles, lifting a few for closer examination. A thin excuse for his inability to look Zuko in the eyes.

"Then why?" Zuko's question held no hint of malice, or disdain for Lu Ten's cowardice, or anything other than simple curiosity.

"It's... complicated."

Zuko's brow furrowed, his mind struggling to comprehend. "Complicated? What does that even mean?"

"It's hard to explain," Lu Ten said patiently. "You know. Like it is when you break a vase and you have to tell your mom what you did?"

The teenager could see Zuko trying to connect things in his mind. "So you did something bad?"

Lu Ten sighed. His father had warned him it might be difficult explaining things to the young boy, but Lu Ten had to try. He just couldn't leave without saying  _anything._ "Not exactly. It's not that I  _did_  something. It's just hard to say... well... because of how it makes me feel." He was afraid of the disappointment, of the knowledge that he'd let someone down. But how to put that into words?

"Just tell me, Lu Ten. I wanna know."

Lu Ten let the pebbles he'd snatched up fall back to the ground. Why was this so hard? Why should he even care what Zuko thought? The whole thing was ridiculous when he thought about it. Lu Ten loved his cousin, but Zuko was seven years old. It wasn't like he was going to understand anyway.

He took a deep breath. "I'm going away," he finally said. He watched carefully for Zuko's reaction—and once again was reminded not to underestimate the kid's powers of perception. The boy's eyes traveled over him, from his armor, tougher than the light set he usually wore around the palace, to the relatively new callouses on his hands from training at all hours of the day. His brow furrowed as he processed all the information and came to an understanding.

"You're going with Uncle." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Lu Ten nodded. His hands laced at the fingers and he wrung them uncomfortably. "This'll be my first tour of duty as a soldier. Rumor has it we're headed toward Ba Sing Se."

Zuko was too young to know much about Ba Sing Se other than that it was big, and in the Earth Kingdom, but he did have the vague sense that it was very, very far away. 'Far away' meant that Lu Ten would be gone a long time, leaving Zuko alone with Azula. It was hard for him to understand that this was not Lu Ten's fault, that the teenager had no choice, but he tried anyway. "Are you scared?" he asked, voice small.

"Yes," Lu Ten admitted, the single word strangled and choked with emotion. It wasn't easy to say, except that this was _Zuko_. Besides the fact that he was still afraid of his own shadow, Zuko was an honorable kid. He wouldn't tell.

Lu Ten blinked as a small hand found his, depositing a rock in it. Lu Ten opened his fingers and turned the thing over. It was lumpy and sort of misshapen, but the sun glinted off it in iridescent fractal patterns. A pearl.

"My mom said it's okay to be scared sometimes." Zuko looked at him with eyes so serious, and so earnest, and innocent and naive, and Lu Ten understood right then why he loved Zuko so much. The boy's compassion was  _boundless_. Lu Ten prayed to Agni that would never change.

"Thanks," Lu Ten said, bringing his other hand up to his eyes to wipe away the embarrassing moisture that had collected there. He'd already admitted he was afraid, so he'd be damned if he was going to  _cry_  in front of the kid.

"You're welcome," Zuko said with a smile. "'Sides, I know you're coming back."

"Really?" Lu Ten smirked, amused. "How do you know that?" He pushed himself back to his feet with a groan, pocketing the pearl. Zuko stood as well, pushing Lu Ten so hard in the chest that he had to take a step back to steady himself.

"Because you're not gonna miss my birthday, that's why!" Zuko's eyes were narrowed, but his grin was just as fierce.

Lu Ten's smile faltered a bit, and when it reinstated itself he was sure it didn't reach his eyes. Truth be told, he had no idea how long it would be before he got back. He'd grown up sheltered from the war and its horrors, but every prince was expected to do his part, and the past few years he'd heard nothing but army talk and rumors of the planned siege. Everybody expected it to be a long-term campaign—far longer than the seven months until Zuko's birthday. But he could humor the kid. "Never!" He reached down and ruffled Zuko's hair, mussing it out of his ponytail.

"Hey!" the boy cried, pounding on Lu Ten with his small fists, and laughingly the teenager took off at a jog, away from the shore and the cavorting manta-dolphins and back toward the palace.

Years later he would pull the pearl out of the hidden recesses of his pocket, sometimes on accident, and wish for a moment that he could be somewhere else. Anywhere but in the middle of this stupid war, with no end to the siege in sight. Anywhere...

 

* * *

 

Zuko stared out over the water, trying desperately to fix his gaze on something steady and unmoving to combat the seasickness. He needed anything, any piece of land or monument other than the hollowed mountain that was his home, receding slowly in the distance. Every movement he made sent shocks of pain and nausea straight into his gut, and the waves pounding the hull of his boat weren't helping. He would have to get used to it, he knew. But hopefully not for too long.

He sensed, rather than saw his Uncle Iroh behind him, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Zuko knew the man was waiting for an opportunity to present itself, any little opening he could work his way into to distribute his inane 'philosophies' and 'wisdom'. Zuko wasn't going to give him one. The boy was tired—exhausted to the bone, but he'd never learn to tough it out with Uncle always there to pat him on the back and tell him it was going to be okay. Besides, he'd had enough humiliation for one lifetime. His uncle didn't need to see him like this, on the verge of vomiting, or crying, or screaming his lungs out until he passed out.

Eventually the older man gave up and Zuko heard his footsteps retreating to the ship's galley. That was just as well. He wasn't sure how much longer he could have held it in. Zuko doubled over the railing, shuddering violently and coughing as his stomach released the meager mean he'd managed to keep down since his ill-fated Agni Kai. He waited until the tremors and dry heaves had subsided, then spit miserably and pulled himself back away from the rail. He kept his right eye shut tight, the fingers of his left hand wandering over his skin until they brushed against the fabric of the bandage that covered much of the left side of his face.

It was so  _real_.  _Too_  real. He wanted so desperately for none of this to have happened, but there was the stinging pain, the rocking of the ship under his feet, the growing knot of mingled despair and determination in his gut that grew as he left his homeland behind. Nothing he could say or do would change things now. Nothing, at least, short of capturing the Avatar. Everyone thought his was a fool's errand, that he was some naive little boy that didn't understand the desperation, the  _futility_  of his situation and his task. Zuko was no fool. He knew no one expected him to ever be able to capture the Avatar, least of all his father. The thing about Zuko, though, was that he'd been born a fighter. He'd been born to defy expectations. After all, his father had believed when he was born that he was a weak child, unlikely to survive. But he had. No one had expected him to be a Firebender of any measure, either, especially when compared to his freakish prodigy of a sister. But he was. No, never as good as Azula, but he could hold his own. When he actually dueled, he added to his thoughts bitterly.

The rush and spray of syncopated splashing captured his attention and he opened his eye, blinking at the sudden intensity of the sunlight. Silver-gray shapes raced along beside the ship's prow, breaking the surface of the water every so often to perform spectacular leaps and flips. Despite himself, Zuko was entranced by their easy, unhurried motions. Unconsciously his hand snaked down to the pouch on his belt, fingers digging into the very bottom corner, where they encountered something small, hard and roughly round. He pulled the pearl out between his index and middle fingers, turning it at different angles and watching as the iridescent patterns shifted over its irregular surface under the light.

 

It might as well have been yesterday, he remembered it so well.

 

News of his cousin Lu Ten's death had come to him suddenly and hard, followed swiftly by the death of his grandfather Azulon, his father's crowning as Fire Lord, and the disappearance of his mother. It had taken an incredible emotional toll on him, but he hadn't cried—not in days, at least, or where anyone could see him. He'd simply locked himself away in his room, and not even Azula could get him to come out. Not that she understood how he felt.

The only thing that managed to coax him out was the news that his Uncle Iroh had finally arrived from Ba Sing Se. The once-great Dragon of the West had been reduced to a laughingstock and an object for contempt. His siege had failed, his bloodline ended, and now he had surrendered the throne to his younger brother without so much as a word of protest. But Zuko didn't care. He pushed past the guards, impetuously berating them for being in his way and tore toward the man who was just now setting down the last piece of his armor in his old chamber. Zuko stopped, and both of them were taken by surprise.

Was this broken shell of a man really the same Iroh that had told him stories when he was a baby, bouncing him on his knees and laughing his great, big, belly laugh? The same man who played chase, and hide-and-explode with him when he was older, and who once practiced Firebending with his son every morning? Zuko's face fell, and he closed his eyes, willing the tears that threatened to spill over to go away. He blinked them open again, however, when he felt the older man's arms wrap around his shoulders.

"It is good to be home," Iroh said in a soft, tired voice. Even Zuko could hear the pang of sadness and the tinge of irony in his words, but he did not argue, or say anything at all. He just waited, and let the older man hold him. After all, both of them needed it.

A few moments passed and Zuko felt Iroh place something in his hand. His uncle pulled away and Zuko looked at the small object cupped in his palm. It had been four years, but the tiny pearl was still intimately familiar. Zuko felt his heart constrict in his chest.

"Lu Ten talked about you often," Iroh said, stumbling over his dead son's name. "I believe he would have wanted you to have it."

Zuko closed his fingers around the pearl and nodded, lowering his eyes.

 

Lu Ten never  _had_ come back for his birthday.

 

Zuko was dragged back into the present when the ship changed course just outside the gates of Azulon, throwing him and the pearl into shadow. The manta-dolphins still cavorted and played, just alongside the prow, but one by one they began to peel off, losing interest or returning to shallower water. Still, a few remained, and Zuko wondered—if he were to jump, to surrender himself to the sea, would they rescue him? Would they protect him, take him someplace far away, where he could forget his life, his past, and this impossible quest?

Nobody had rescued Lu Ten. He'd died a miserable, meaningless death, far from home and alone. And now, as Zuko realized, nobody was going to rescue  _him_.

He closed his fist tightly around the pearl, so hard that it steamed, and his blunt nails dug into his skin. Then, as the last remaining manta-dolphins abandoned the ship for their fellows, he drew back his arm and cast the pearl into the sea.


End file.
